Romance of the Rabbit | Page 6

She was a spaniel, of kind disposition, and compact build. She
had a stubby tail, pendant ears, and twisted paws. She was easy to get
on with and polite. She had been born in a pig-pen at a cobbler's who
went hunting on Sundays. When her master died, and no one wanted to
give her shelter, she ran about in the fields where she met Francis.

Rabbit always walked by her side, and when she slept her muzzle lay
upon him and he too fell asleep. All of them always had their noonday
sleep, and under the dull fire of the sun it was filled with dreams.
Then Francis saw again the Paradise from which he had come. It
seemed to him as if he were passing through the great open gate into
the wonderful street on which stood the houses of the Elect. They were
low huts, each like the other, in a luminous shadow which caused tears
of joy to rise in the eyes. From the interior of these huts might be
caught the gleam of a carpenter's plane, a hammer, or a file. The work
that is sublime continues here; for, when God asked those who had
come to him what reward they desired for their work on earth, they
always wished to go on with that which had helped them to gain
Heaven. And then suddenly their humble crafts became filled with a
sort of mystery. Artisans appeared at their thresholds where tables were
set for the evening meal. One heard the cheery burble of celestial wells.
And in the open squares angels that had a semblance to fishing-boats,
bowed down in the blessedness of the twilight.
But the animals in their dreams saw neither the earth nor Paradise as we
know them and see them. They dreamed of endless plains where their
senses became confused. It was like a dense fog in them. To Rabbit the
baying of the hounds became all blended into one thing with the heat of
the sun, sharp detonations, the feeling of wet paws, the vertigo of flight,
with fright, with the smell of the clay, and the sparkle of the brook,
with the waving to and fro of wild carrots and the crackling of maize,
with the moonshine and the joyous emotion of seeing his mate
appearing amid the fragrant meadow-sweet.
Behind their closed eyelids they all saw moving like mirrored
reflections the courses of their lives. The doves, however, protected
their nimble and restless, little heads from the sun; they sought for their
Paradise beneath the shadow of their wings.

BOOK II
When winter came Francis said to his friends:
"Blessings upon you for you are of God. But in my heart I am uneasy
for the cry of the geese that are flying southward tells that a famine is
near at hand, and that it is not in the purposes of Heaven to make the
earth kind for you. Praised be the hidden designs of the Lord!"

The country around them, in fact, became a barren waste. The sky let
drip a yellow light from its sack-like clouds bulging with snow. All the
fruits of the hedges had withered, and all those of the orchards were
dead. And the seeds had left their husks to enter into the bosom of the
earth.
..."Praised be the hidden designs of the Lord," said Francis. "Perhaps it
is His wish that you leave me, and each of you go your own way in
quest of nourishment. Therefore separate from me since I cannot go
with each one of you, if your instincts lead you to different lands. For
you are living and have need of nourishment, while I am risen from the
dead and am here by the grace of God, free from all corporeal needs, a
spirit as it were who had the privilege of guiding you to this day. But
whatever knowledge I have is growing less, and I no longer know how
to provide for you. If you wish to leave me, let the tongue of each be
loosed, and freely let each speak."
The first to speak was the Wolf.
He raised his muzzle toward Francis. His shaggy tail was swept by the
wind. He coughed. Misery had long been his garb. His wretched fur
made him seem like a dethroned king. He hesitated, and cast his eye
upon each one of his companions in turn. At last his voice came from
his throat, hoarse like that of the eternal snow. And when he opened his
jaws one could measure his endless privations by the length of his teeth.
And his expression was so wild that one could not tell whether he was
about to bite his master or to caress him.
He said:
"Oh honey without